In relation to music, looking back, some of my fondest memories can almost always be coincided with a Replacements track (I promise that’s not as morbid as it sounds). Whether it be screaming along to “Bastards of Young” as I drove home after a frustrating day, listening to “Unsatisfied” at 1AM while I’m sprawled out on my bedroom floor reflecting on the past few months, or having “Can’t Hardly Wait” flood my ears as I looked forward to the future, they were almost always a go-to band. The Replacements always had a way of having brutally honest lyrics courtesy of Paul Westerberg, but remained melodic, innocent, and still managed to not take themselves too seriously. This is what almost any band aspires to consist of. I mention this, because upon my first listen to “Who Would Ever Want Anything So Broken?”, I heard those very same elements; Melodic lead guitar hooks, drums that drive it all home and voice that’s impossible to ignore, and trust me, you won’t.

Beach Slang, right off the bat, is a product of Philly’s current and ever-expanding punk mecca. This band is a 3-piece that consist of members from Weston, Ex Friends and Crybaby. Though a small band in quantity, this should absolutely not discredit their ability to sound as full and as powerful as they do. I found it hard to put them into a die-cast mold of a genre, which I appreciate deeply. Although almost all of the tracks are upbeat and in a major key, the lyrics smack you with a palm of reality, but not enough to the point where you’re alone sobbing in your room at 3am, and will still make you want to hangout at the beach all day. Even though the open chords could easily be replaced with power chords to make a more directly related “punk” vibe, they don’t. Instead this gives it a more “Hey, this-could-totally-be-a-90’s-alternative-tune-if-we-were-a-band-then” kind of feel, but still remains to have a rougher edge. All in all, it’s these elements specifically that make Beach Slang and the 4 tracks of “Who Would Ever Want Anything So Broken?” differ from what you’ve been spinning lately.

The first track of the e.p. entitled, “Filthy Luck,” opens with the full band and a ripping guitar melody that you’ll probably be whistling as you complete mundane tasks at work and wondering what song it came from because it’s so catchy. Possibly, as you’re completing said mundane tasks, you’ll remember the opening lyrics, “I’m a slave to always fucking up,” and get a slight jab in the side from wishing you didn’t let yourself get caught up in life’s cycle so often. It will make you want to do something, period. Overall, this track sets a strong foundation and theme for what the rest of the e.p. will cover in just two minutes and twenty-four seconds.

The second track, “Kids,” is what I found to be my most re-visited and all-around favorite track off the e.p. It’s around the same tempo as the first track, but is still very much independent. As a complete sucker for great outro’s to songs, Kids definitely fulfills my craving for them. As soon as you can tell the song is reaching a near, the voice from behind the mic spills out “So, I carved your name in mine and I thought all about how we stumble around until gravity sleeps and you slip and fall into me,” along with a chorus of gang vocals backing him up. What’s not to love about that?

After two songs at a similar tempo, the third track, “Get Lost,” is a great deal slower, making the e.p. that much more full. In the midst of poppy, dreamy and indie ooooooh’s, the track ends with, “I hardly talk. My lips are carved with lust and clumsy thoughts. Who called the cops? Whatever. We’ll never get caught.” This track pretty much oozes desperation and generally just a desire and longing for more. More of what? Well, that’s up to you to determine.

After a quick break from a slow tempo, the last track, “Punk or Lust,” gets right to it, and is my second favorite track off the e.p. (Note: I would totally tie it for first if I could) Much unlike the title, punk or lust isn’t a statement, but rather a question. “We are fucked up I know on this junk we’ve been told. Punk or lust?” is repeated multiple times, and it sticks. Not only is this line relatable, being that almost all of us have been force-fed definitions not only of what “punk” means and how that’s a never ending battle, but generally how yore supposed to act, think and speak from a young age. This is a focal point of the track, without question.

Overall, this is an e.p. I’ll probably spend most of my summer listening to repetitively. You can currently pre-order a copy of the 7″ on black vinyl (The color variant already sold out) from the great people who run the Dead Broke Rekerds distro at:

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Published by It's True, It's A Balce-fact

Emily Balcerak (Pronounced bal-sir-ack) has been a musician since she was eight years old. She lives on Long Island and thinks it's important to specify that you live on it, not, "in" it. At some point during early adolescence she fell in love with punk rock and new wave European 12" singles and all chances of having a stable job were thrown out the window after watching every Clash documentary available. By day, she teaches children drums amongst other instruments, and by night she's probably still doing that, too if she's not filling a 5-7 minute slot at a comedy mic or contributing to New Noise Magazine; an internationally sold music publication available at Barnes & Noble! (Not a plug.) Somehow, she also does background acting. Despite what the tone of this bio may make you think, this is definitely NOT written by her at 2a.m. while eating peanut butter and is totally written by her fancy ghost-writer she can totally afford. Oh, by the way, this primarily a music blog covering the contemporary lesser-known. Now you know all you need to.
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